


Why You Don't Bet Against  Canadians

by Anon007



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: All others minor appearance, M/M, US/Can main characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1682798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon007/pseuds/Anon007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says on the tin. Rated E for Yaoi, Language, Crossdressing and general Hetalia-ness. CanAme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why You Don't Bet Against  Canadians

**Author's Note:**

> Posted from fanfiction.net.

“Noooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You can’t do this to me! I won’t let you! Somebody help!!”

The staff in the White House knew by now to just ignore the screams coming from the bedroom. It wasn’t like they could save him, anyways. Half of them probably didn’t even want to.

The miniature camera they had slipped under the doorway was kind of a hint. As were the nosebleeds being stopped by tissues.

“You were the one who suggested this Alfie. And you did lose the bet.” Matthew cooed to his twin, uncapping the eyeliner. “Make a fuss and I’ll poke you in the eye by the way.”

His boyfriend of five decades was strapped down in a steel chair that was welded into some rather sturdy foundations underground. Matthew should know – he had built them just for occasions such as this (as well as other, more...x-rated ones).

The bottle of homemade sleeping pills he had slipped into Alfred’s coke was helping to check the superpower’s strength a rather lot too. Although, if his calculations were correct, it should be wearing off in a little while.

Alfred F. Jones aka The United States of America was dressed in a black tank-top and miniskirt complete with fishnet stockings and elbow-length gloves. And make up. Right down to the polish on his toe nails.

He suspected there was a pair of high-heels hiding around somewhere but he couldn’t be sure.

“I didn’t think you’d stoop so low as to make me wear this Mattie. And in front of _them_ no less? You are a cruel, cruel man.”

Alfred had given up screaming, realising none of the maids were likely to saving him anytime soon. Heck they were more likely to help Matthew. Damn Traitors.

He held still as his boyfriend -Some boyfriend the Canuck was, Alfred thought, seething- applied the rest of the makeup, knowing full well Matthew would make good on his threat.

This was one of the only times Alfred cursed a Nation’s speed healing ability.

“I can assure you, you won’t be saying that tonight if you behave Alfie.” Matthew whispered huskily to his twin, feeling the other shiver in response.

When the Canuck was done, he stepped back, admiring his handiwork.

Alfred looked rather sexy (well sexier than usual) if he had anything to say about it.

The World Meeting would, no doubt, be more eventful today than it had been in years.

Even more so since their counterparts were coming.

\----------xx----------

Most of the G8+5 in the meeting room couldn’t help but jump as the doors slammed open with enough force to put a sizeable dent in military-grade walls.

At least they didn’t break it this time.

In strolled the people most of the world had unofficially dubbed ‘The Second Players’. 2P for short.

“Sup hippies?!” Tommy, Alfred’s counterpart, shouted, slamming a baseball bat studded with dented nails onto the table. Matt and the other 2Ps merely looked around, most either looking for someone to terrorize or were just plain bored.

Deciding the former was more a+musing than the latter, Oliver’s (2P England) offered a batch of cupcakes to Arthur, who paled and tried to think of a polite way to decline.

Germany groaned. This was why he hated this time of the century. As if the normal level of chaos wasn’t enough, they had to meet up with their ‘other-halves’ to ensure that things were going as smoothly as possible on the flip side, that is, nothing that was happening that would affect this universe and vice-versa.

To add to all of that the North American Twins had yet to show up. This by itself was foreboding.

As if they had heard his thoughts, the mentioned duo entered the room, America having to be simultaneously half-dragged and held up by his Northern twin owing to a pair of black, six-inch heels.

Oh how Ludwig wished he had stayed home.

Upon processing exactly what America was dressed in, numerous wolf-whistles and cat calls from both groups promptly filled the room.

Francis was even in tears.

 “Mon Petit Matthieu,” the Frenchman sniffed, wiping his eyes with a silken handkerchief,   “You have made Papa so proud!”

Matthew just smiled in response, slipping an arm around Alfred’s waist.

\------xx------

The minute they entered the apartment, Matthew shut and latched the door.

“Come on, Alfie.” He purred in his lover’s ear. “I said I’d make it worth your wild.”

The statement was accompanied by nip to Alfred’s ear, which just made the latter blush harder and gasp.

Matthew guided the blond American up to their shared bedroom after said American spun around and brought him into a searing kiss.

Alfred groaned as Matthew threw him onto the bed, breaking their kiss, only to shove his hands up Alfred’s way-too-tight skirt and grope his throbbing erection through his boxers.

“Ahhhh!” Alfred’s breath hitched as he thrust forward, grinding his flesh into Matthew’s palm.

Sinking his fingers into his brother’s shoulders, he jerked his knee up and pressed it between the other’s legs.

Hissing in pleasure, Matthew sunk his teeth into Alfred’s shoulder and proceeded to hump the knee offered to him.

Alfred moaned, both at the feeling of Matthew’s huge, throbbing member against his leg and the hand that had managed to worm its way inside his boxers, alternating between squeezing and giving rough strokes to his now leaking erection.

“Mattieeeeee.” Alfred groaned out. “Ple-ease!” he broke off with a half- shout as Matthew suddenly shoved two cum-slicked fingers inside him.

Rather than feeling pain at the sudden intrusion, he moaned and tried to shove back onto the intruding fingers only for his sweat-soaked heel to slip on the covers. Luckily Matthew managed to hold him steady and coaxed him into a kiss.

Just as Alfred opened his mouth to let the probing tongue in, Matthew slipped the third finger inside him.

Though it was far from being a necessity anymore, Alfred still enjoyed getting fingered first. They had been doing it enough that it was as simple as Matthew pushing Alfred against the nearest available surface and fucking him senseless – no prep needed.

He had actually done that before too, Alfred reminisced, panting, as they paused to remove (more like rip off) each other’s clothes. The memory made his already heated nether regions throb in anticipation.

As Matthew spread and lifted Alfred’s legs, the latter pulled him in for a short, soft kiss.

Lining himself up with Alfred’s entrance, Matthew pushed himself in, the welcoming heat still managing to steal his breath away.

Alfred moaned and pushed back on him, trying to take Matthew in even deeper.

“Move.” He whispered to the other.

Matthew nodded and complied.

Alfred screamed as his prostate was hit head on, wrapping his arms around Matthew’s torso  and thrusting upwards to meet the other halfway as they rocked back and forth on the bed.

As Matthew gained speed and force, his cock practically _throbbing_ inside Alfred’s passage, the American’s grip started to weaken as he lost his focus of the world around him.

Then Alfred’s vision went white.

When he came down from his high, it was to see Matthew flopped down beside him, breathing heavily.

Alfred gave a half-assed attempt at a smile before turning and snuggling into his boyfriend’s chest.

No words were needed as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The End.


End file.
